


The Second Vecchio

by lovessong



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovessong/pseuds/lovessong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if instead of finding a new Ray to replace Ray Vecchio when he went off to work undercover, they found a new Vecchio instead?  Features Ray Kowalski as the new Civilian Assistant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Second Vecchio

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in June 2005, and probably posted it somewhere at the time.

Today was the Big Day – the Mountie was getting back from vacation. Ray couldn’t wait to see how it went down. For one thing, Elaine’d told him the guy was some kind of hot, but also every kind of unavailable. For another thing, this Vecchio switcheroo they’d pulled while he was gone was absolutely ridiculous. What’s the point in putting one detective in for another detective if it’s patently obvious to anyone with eyes that the second detective is not (very much not, so fucking not) the first detective.

It was gonna be hilarious, and it wasn’t gonna be his problem. Ray grinned to himself and kept typing away, updating the 27th’s website. 

Vecchio was looking kind of nervous. The word around the precinct (Ray had done his best to pick up as much gossip as possible in the few weeks he’s been around) was that there was some kind of history there. Unrequited longing, lots of awkwardness, all sorts of good stuff like that. Ray thought the gossips were probably exaggerating – Vecchio (the new Vecchio? The second Vecchio?) was a little strange, but not nuts or anything like that. 

He caught a flash of red out of the corner of his eye, and turned to catch his first sight of Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Wow. Very . . . red. And looking somewhat annoyed as he scanned the squad room and didn’t see the Ray he was looking for. Fraser’s eyes had passed right over Ray in his search, so Ray was free to watch him unobserved as he got Huey’s attention.

“Detective Huey, have you see Detective Vecchio?”

Huey shifted nervously. Ray looked over to where Vecchio’d been doing some similar anxious shifting not two minutes ago, but evidently the detective had gone missing just at the right moment. Getting rid of some of the endless cups of coffee that had been contributing to those nervous jitters, maybe.

“You mean Ray?”

Ray rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, Ray Vecchio the detective.”

“I . . . umm . . . Ray Vecchio must be around here somewhere.” Completely unnatural emphasis on Ray. If Ray _Kowalski_ was picking detectives to go undercover, Huey would not be his first choice. “Try the lunch room, maybe.”

Fraser had the not-entirely-patient look of someone who’d already _tried_ the lunch room, thank-you-very-much, and not seen hide nor hair of Ray Vecchio. Not a shock, that, since the Ray Vecchio he remembered was currently ordering people shot and wearing even more expensive suits than usual in Vegas.

But Canadian politeness won the day (or at least the minute), and Fraser thanked Huey kindly and offered him some whale sex thing that Ray didn’t want to examine too closely. Ray was grateful the Mountie didn’t know him so he wouldn’t have to pretend to be excited about some crazy Canadian gift made of bone or blubber or some other gross substance he didn’t want to touch if he could avoid it.

He would have pretended, though, and he’d have done a better job of it than Huey, and maybe he would have gotten the Mountie to smile at him. The guy hadn’t smiled yet, but Ray suspected it would be something else if he did. 

Meanwhile, Vecchio was sneaking in behind Fraser’s back, and Huey, always quick on his feet, noticed the entirely futile evasive maneuvers. “Hey, Fraser, there’s Vecchio now!” Fraser looked over, and Vecchio smiled weakly, looking like she wanted to hide.

“Oh, hello, Francesca. Where’s Ray?”

“Ray-Ray-” Vecchio spluttered, like she was some other person from the cop who’d talk your ear off given half chance.

“Yes, Ray. Where’s your brother?”

Vecchio was bright red, her face clashing badly with her hot-pink top. You’d think someone would have suggested that it looked funny for police detectives to wear shirts that showed an inch of belly, but when Ray’d mentioned it, Vecchio had glared at him and said what was good enough for the 19th would be good enough for the 27th.

Huey stepped in. “No, Fraser, that’s Ray Vecchio right there, the cop you’re talking to.”

Fraser looked from Huey to Vecchio, and back to Huey. “While the person I just spoke to is indeed a police officer named Vecchio, she is actually Officer Francesca Vecchio, assigned to the 19th Precinct, not Detective Raymond Vecchio, assigned to the 27th Precinct.”

Huey looked like he was going to continue this highly public discussion of dangerously private information, and Ray couldn’t let it continue. He grabbed Vecchio’s forearm with one hand, Fraser’s with the other (taking a second to enjoy the close proximity to both gorgeous guy Mountie and gorgeous girl cop), and dragged them both off to the supply closet.

Vecchio struggled in a way that might suggest that she was trying to get out of Ray’s grip, if you were someone who hadn’t seen her take down a man twice her size. Fraser merely looked bewildered.

“I don’t think I’ve made your acquaintance, Officer --?”

“Kowalski. I’m Ray Kowalski, and –”  
“And he’s not Officer Anybody, Fraser, he’s the new Civilian Assistant, taking over from Elaine.”

Ray glared at Vecchio. “Look, Vecchio, none of that Civilian Assistant crap. I’m your computer guy. I don’t assist nobody with nothing, unless it’s their computer.”

Fraser looked like he was going to go from confused and slightly peeved to full-on pissed at any moment, and the sarcasm was starting to peek out from under his politeness. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Kowalski, but I’m not entirely clear on why you’ve felt it necessary to bring myself and Officer Vecchio into the supply closet.”

“That dumbass Huey was about to shout it all over the squad room, and I thought it might be a good idea to keep super-secret undercover stuff in private. Not like it’s such a great secret, when Vecchio here is not exactly a spot-on replacement for her brother, as you might have noticed.”

“Well, yes, I did – replacement? Undercover? Explain yourself, please, Mr. Kowalski.”

“Ray.”

"What?"

"It's Ray. Nobody calls me Mister Kowalski. Do I look like a Mister to you?"

Fraser looked like he couldn't figure out how to answer that and stay polite, and Ray just kept talking, because the supply closet was starting to make him a little claustrophobic.

"Okay, here's the story. Ray Vecchio had to go to Vegas, undercover, for some big mob boss that looks just like him. Lobster somebody."

"Armando Langoustini," Vecchio cuts in.

"Right, Armando Lobstertini. Anyway, so Vecchio's in Vegas, but then there was no Vecchio here. So Welsh got the 19th to transfer their Vecchio over here to the 27th to be undercover as your Vecchio, because evidently guy, girl, talking horse, doesn't matter what the cop looks like as long as she goes by Vecchio and has a Mountie for a partner."

Fraser looked at Vecchio for confirmation of this unlikely story, and she nodded in confirmation.

"So Ray Vecchio is gone, and I'm expected to be partner to Francesca Vecchio, who is now going by Ray's name and has taken his place?"

Vecchio had finally gotten herself to where she could say what she'd been practicing all week in the ladies. "I swear, Fraser, I'll be _completely_ professional. I'll get over you like _that_ , you'll see. No more showing up at your place for anything but cases. Or pizza and the game – Ray did that, didn't he? Don't I? Oh, _shit_."

Fraser looked like he was about to cry. Maybe it was mean, but Ray was kind of enjoying himself. He didn't care if the computers at the 27th were for shit, he was sticking around for the entertainment value alone.


End file.
